“I was just the muscle. I love this place, Grand. I don’t tell you that often enough.”
“I see it, and that’s plenty. You want the ring.”
He stopped, stared down at her. “How did you know that?”
“My darling boy, I know you. We all know you.” She leaned a little closer. “I promised you the ring when you found the one you wanted to wear it. She may want her own.”
“No.” He shook his head. “It’ll matter to her, that it’s from you, from family. It’ll matter. But I don’t want to take it unless you’re sure.”
Lydia looked down at the wedding set she’d worn more than fifty years. She slipped off the one with the square-cut diamond that topped the band. “What matters is you’re sure, and I see you are. I’m wearing the pledge and the life that goes with it. I’m giving you the promise of that pledge. Do you want to tell the others?”
“I figure to wait until I know what she says.”
“For a smart man you can be very thick. They already know. I can’t tell you what she’ll say, because I don’t know her heart, not all of it. I can say she’s a very lucky woman.” Lydia put the ring in his hand, closed his hand around it.
“It may not be what she wants. Not the ring—the package.”
“You’ll have to find out, won’t you? Life’s a series of leaps. Now, let’s go tell the rest of us what they already know.”
He didn’t have to say a thing, not when they walked in and he saw his mother’s gaze go directly to his grandmother’s left hand. Then watched her eyes fill.
“Oh, don’t do that.”
“I’m entitled. Oh, Rory, our baby’s getting married.”
“I don’t know that. Wait.”
“Good thing I didn’t hit on her.”
That changed quick panic to derision for his brother. “Yeah, that would’ve worked out for you.”
“We’ll never know now. Good job, man. She’s a winner.”
Mick took Lydia’s left hand, brought it to his lips. “My own darling. Good job, us.”
“Everybody, please back up. If she says no, nothing changes.”
“Just shut up.” Nell moved in to hug him. “First, she won’t. Next, what are we going to do, fire her? She’s not only the best bar manager we’ve had, but she’s a friend of mine now.”
Then his father wrapped around both of them, murmured in his ear, “Don’t get down on one knee. Not her style.”
“I wasn’t planning on it. Listen, I mean it. Everyone back up. I have to ask her, and until I do, nobody says anything.”
The ring of the doorbell saved him. “I’ll get it.”
He should’ve waited, he decided. Asked her first, then asked for the ring. Now he had his entire family champing at the bit.
Then he opened the door to Jake and everything else took a back seat.
“Sorry, I’m interrupting. Rang the bell because I know it’s family meeting day.”
“We’re done.” He knew. Of course he knew. “Rozwell. Somebody else is dead.”
“Not that we know of. But I’m on my way to update Morgan—I asked the feds to let me do it. I wanted to give you a heads-up first.”
“Might as well give it to everybody. Want a beer?”
“I’m going to consider myself on duty.”
The buzz of conversation died away when Jake walked in with Miles.
“You have news,” Nell said quickly.
“More of an update. I stopped by on my way to Morgan’s.”
“Let’s all go sit down.” Rory gestured to the dining room.
When they had, Jake set his hands on the table. “They’ve been following Rozwell’s trail north, well into Washington State. It looked like he might plan to try to get into Canada. The thought process was he’d try going east once he’d gotten over the border, then cross south again, into Vermont.”
“‘Was,’ you said?”
“Yes, Pop.” Jake turned to Mick. “Beck and Morrison, the leads on the FBI’s task force, the ones who I have to figure know him best, suspect he’s been baiting them. Leaving a fairly easy trail so he can double back, head south. I’ve got to say, they convinced me.
“They’ve gone south. The rest of the task force is in the field, the local authorities are still looking north, and they’re keeping a close eye on border crossings.”